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They gave the cavern one more look, then opened the hatch and stepped into the red-lit passage that led to the hidden door in the subway-station wall.
"Nobody...." Steve muttered.
"Maybe they're waiting in the tunnel."
Opening the tiled door, they stepped into the litter and dirt of the ancient subway tunnel. They looked around but saw no one and were starting to go back into the cavern and search for Barry and the rest when they heard a chorus of desperate, relieved voices echoed through the tunnel, overlapping in urgency and hope:
"Where are we.....? Can anyone hear us.....? Is anyone there......Someone answer us!!!"
Their voices rose together, calling into the dim, crumbling vastness of the tunnel, their words swallowed by the shadows beyond.
"I did it, Captain!"
The two pilots whirled at the sound of Barry's voice, saw his young head peeking out from behind one of the dirt-encrusted subway car windows.
"Barry!"
"Hey, guys." The kid stood up and ran to the wrecked door of the subway car to stand looking at them. "Boy, those robes had me fooled for a minute! I thought...."
Steve and Dan began to pull the white robes off at once, wadding them up and throwing them aside. Trotting over to Barry, they both shook his hand.
"Barry, where are the others? We need everyone now!" Steve said.
“The others—Betty, Valerie, and Mark—are trapped near the far end of the subway, behind the collapsed arch, where the tunnel walls still stand," Barry explained. "Follow me, I’ll show you.”
Barry led them through the labyrinth of shattered corridors, his small frame nimble as he navigated the debris-strewn passage. Every step brought Steve and Dan closer to a cluster of survivors huddled in a dim, cavernous chamber beneath the ruined subway. As they rounded a bend, Betty and Valerie burst forth from a side passage, their faces lighting up with relief and unbridled enthusiasm.
Betty exclaimed, "There you are—finally, you're here!" while Valerie added, "We were so worried about you; we've been waiting for you all this time!"
Fitzhugh arrived in a huff, his uniform rumpled and his face flushed with indignation. "I never expected to be treated like a lab rat by... those hooded creatures," he spat, his voice rough with anger. "They were downright insolent—so rude I could hardly stand it!"
Valerie stepped forward, her eyes glistening with both sorrow and resolve. "They studied us like lab rats, dissecting every detail of our lives," she said, her tone trembling with emotion. "And before we knew it, they whisked Barry away and locked us in those glass tubes without a second thought!"
Mark Wilson's tone was sharp as he interjected, "So, does anyone have a plan for getting us out of this graveyard and away from these---whatever the hell they're supposed to be?"
"Guys, I just remembered—there's an electrically powered caddy cart that the Underfolk use to tour the ruins. It's got seven seats and it's wicked fast. Follow me, it's parked right over there!"
Barry's eyes lit up as he pointed down a narrow, debris-strewn corridor, his small hand steady despite the chaos. He led them along the crumbling passage, weaving between fallen beams and shattered glass, until they reached a shadowed corner where a sleek, futuristic cart gleamed under a stray beam of light.
The group exchanged glances, the weight of urgency pressing on them. Steve instinctively stepped forward. "I'll drive," he said firmly, gripping the control stick to test its responsiveness. No one argued—his piloting skills made him the obvious choice.
One by one, they climbed into the caddy cart. Barry took the seat beside Steve to help navigate, while Dan and Mark settled in behind them. Betty and Valerie slid into the middle row, gripping the sides of the vehicle as they braced themselves.
Fitzhugh was the last to clamber in, wriggling his portly frame into the last seat on the left with considerable effort. "Ohhh, this infernal contraption was clearly not built for comfort!" he huffed, shifting uncomfortably as the tight seat pressed into his sides. "Or for gentlemen of distinguished proportions!"
Steve gripped the controls and glanced at Barry. "Which way, Barry? Any idea what might get us to the surface?"
Barry furrowed his brow, thinking. "There's an old maintenance tunnel that slopes upward not far from here. The Underfolk never use it—too unstable, they say—but it might be our best shot at getting out of this place fast."
Steve narrowed his eyes, peering into the dim tunnel ahead. “It looks bad to me, but we’re not going anywhere if we don’t start right now.”
Barry leaned over and pointed to a worn panel just below the dash. “Press that green button—-yeah, the one with the crack. That’s the starter.”
A Steve pressed the cracked green button, a low hum buzzed through the floor beneath their feet. A moment later, a sharp click-click-click echoed through the tunnel, rhythmic and mechanical, like the teeth of a giant gear locking into place.
From the tiled wall just ahead, dust sifted down as a long-hidden seam split open. With a shudder and a hiss of ancient hydraulics, a rectangular section of wall snapped outward and began to slide back, revealing a gaping, shadowy passage beyond. The door’s movement sent a groan reverberating through the tunnel, like the subway itself was waking from a long slumber.
Fitzhugh’s eyes widened in sheer terror as the hidden door creaked fully open. He gripped the side of the cart with both hands and blurted, “It’s them! I know it’s them—-they’re coming after us!”
His voice rose an octave as he fumbled for the safety bar. “For heaven’s sake, Captain, get this beastly contraption moving! Don’t let them take us again!”
With a sudden jolt, the electric caddy cart shuddered to life. A harsh creaking echoed off the tiled walls, as if the ancient vehicle were awakening from a centuries-long slumber. The frame groaned in protest, wheels clunking forward with a metallic whine as dust shook loose from its joints.
The motor give off a strained hum, growing steadier as the cart lurched ahead, its tired mechanisms straining under the unfamiliar weight of so many passengers. Somewhere beneath them, gears rattled like old bones, but the cart—-miraculously—-held together and began to pick up speed.
Shouts erupted behind them—-dozens of voices, urgent and fanatical. Robed figures burst onto the crumbling subway platform in a rush, their footsteps slapping hard against concrete as they gave chase. Hoods flared behind them like tattered wings as they sprinted, arms outstretched toward the speeding caddy cart.
Some leapt without hesitation from the edge of the platform, aiming to land on the tracks or even the back of the vehicle itself. A few stumbled, crashing onto the rail bed in clouds of dust and loose debris, while others scrambled madly to regain footing and continue the pursuit.
Steve gritted his teeth and slammed his palm against the throttle. “Hold on”he barked, as the caddy cart bucked forward and shot into the yawning blackness of the tunnel. The shadows swallowed them, the glow of the dashboard casting eerie light across the passengers’ tense faces as the roar of pursuit was left behind, echoing into the depths.
Betty clutched the side rail, squinting into the pitch-black tunnel ahead. “Steve—-can you turn on any headlights? If this damn thing has any, that is!” Her voice was tight with nerves, laced with a hint of hope.
“I can’t turn on the headlilghts!” Steve cried. “I’ve got to keep it dark—they’ll see us if I don’t!”13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡycvOJKjlJw
“And if you don’t, we’ll see nothing!” Fitzhugh hissed. “Might as well drive blind into a ditch, Burton!”
Mark Wilson leaned forward in his seat, voice low but sharp. “In case you missed it, Fitzhugh—-there’s something behind us. So maybe stop yelling about headlights and start thinking about what’s creeping up in the dark!”13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7qC6vcZjwG
The ancient cart squeaked like a rusted hinge on every turn of its battered wheels, each groan echoing down the tunnel like the sighs of some long-forgotten beast. The wooden frame shuddered with every bump, joints complaining in deep, weary creaks as it picked up speed, inch by inch gaining ground on the pursuers.
Not far from the tunnel’s mouth, the white-robed figures came to a halt. They stood still, their hoods tilted ever so slightly as if listening, sensing. Their feet dragged across the rubble of angels—-shards of stone, dust thick as ash—-scuffing it with a sound that was soft, yet heavy with meaning.
The leading figure stood very still, as if rooted to the broken stone beneath him. His white robes stirred slightly in the faint, stale breeze of the tunnel, but he himself was motionless—-a statue of intent.
A low humming began to rise, barely audible at first, like the vibration of taut wire drawn across time. Then, suddenly, two wire-thin beams of light flashed from beneath his hood——brilliant and unwavering——cutting through the dark like needles of fire.
An instant later, the air shattered.
There was an explosion of light so fierce it painted the jagged walls in a blinding white, followed by a sound like the sky cracking open. A shockwave roared through the tunnel. Stone groaned, then screamed, as centuries-loose rubble gave way.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhs5yxMv50c
